


The Cage

by TheReversalOfSam



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, BAMF Leia Organa, Cinnamon Roll Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader Redemption, Episode: s01e04 The Enemy Within (Star Trek), F/M, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Neither Anakin nor Vader can be relied to to accurately narrate their own story, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Parent Darth Vader, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-22 04:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19659895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheReversalOfSam/pseuds/TheReversalOfSam
Summary: Anakin Skywalker lives as a prisoner inside the mind of Darth Vader. In one reality, he remains in his cage until the love from his son is powerful enough to give him the key to his own freedom. Here, Vader makes the tactical decision to temporarily loose Anakin, but Anakin does not want to return to his cage.“He who is conceived in a cage yearns for the cage.” – Yevgeny YevtushenkoCanon-divergent from Episode IV. AU in the sense that Anakin and Vader act like two separate entities unhappily occupying the same body (although they both remain Anakin Skywalker).





	1. Episode I: Falling Down

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Shape-Changer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678835) by [Fialleril](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fialleril/pseuds/Fialleril). 



> G'day mates. This is my first Star Wars story. It's based on the idea of 'what if Vader and Anakin were not only two separate people, but Anakin manages to escape Vader's hold'. The first chapter is a bit of set-up and backstory, then from chapter two onwards we'll see the storyline of episode iv on diverge as Anakin crashes into the story with all his usual finesse. I'm a long-time Star Wars fan but only a new fan to the EU/Legends so I'm still playing catch-up on a lot of the lore and plot. If I make any glaring oversights, please feel free to educate me in the comments. Unless it completely breaks the story, I'll do my best to integrate the lore/plot/characterisations/etc into my story.  
> Thank you and please enjoy "The Cage"!  
> May the Force be with you.

“He who is conceived in a cage yearns for the cage.” – Yevgeny Yevtushenko

# Episode I: Falling Down

The stage was set for the Fall of Anakin Skywalker. Mace Windu threatened the life of the one being who might be able to save Padmé and their baby, and that being, Dark Lord of the Sith or not, was begging for mercy. Anakin was desperate to save the only good things left in his life and exhausted from a long and ultimately pointless war. He was distantly aware that he was acting reckless – Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, _Padmé_ wouldn’t approve – but he was doing this for them. He had to.

Blue light sheered Mace Windu’s arm from his body and the Jedi Master screamed as Palpatine pushed him out of the window.

An animal howl of pure _pain_ ripped itself from Anakin’s throat. “ _What have I done?_ ”

Padmé had always told him life was a series of choices. Anakin knew he’d just made a bad one. But when faced with _become a traitor to all you know and save what you love_ and _stay loyal and lose it all anyway_ , what choice did he really have?

The horror of what he had chosen was settling in his bones like a cold weight, chilling him from within. Or was that just the Dark Side wrapping him in its loving tendrils?

Anakin felt his legs go out from beneath him and he sat heavily.

“You are fulfilling your destiny, Anakin,” the monster wearing the wizened skin of a man Anakin had once considered a friend said encouragingly. “Become my Apprentice. Learn to use the Dark Side of the Force.”

Here was the final choice. Yes or no? Would he pledge himself to this man? He was vaguely aware through the screaming haze in his mind that he would be nothing more than a slave. He would be back where he started, only a lot worse. But wasn’t he really only trading one Master for another? He’d never truly been free as a Jedi. The Order and the Council had controlled his life more surely than Watto ever had. At least Palpatine was offering him a chance to save Padmé. Anakin just had to ensure the Sith would keep his promise.

“I will do whatever you ask,” he offered hoarsely.

“Good,” the Sith encouraged.

Anakin’s blue eyes met the awful yellow of Palpatine’s. The Sith’s mouth stretching in an ungodly smile as he watched amber catch around his new apprentice’s pupils.

“Just help me save Padmé's life,” Anakin stipulated. He was a slave and slaves didn’t get to ask for things, but if he could have just this one thing, he’d never fight against his chains ever again. “I can't live without her. I won't let her die. I want the power to stop death.”

Palpatine seemed to consider Anakin’s words. If Anakin had been thinking more clearly, or really anything other than a broken record of _I must save my family_ and _oh Force what have I done_ , he might have seen the hesitation for what it was. Might have remembered the ease with which Sith lie.

“To cheat death is a power only one has achieved, but if we work together, I know we can discover the secret,” Palpatine offered.

Anakin knelt before Palpatine, bowing himself to the will of his new master. “I pledge myself to your teachings. To the ways of the Sith.”

“Good. Good,” his Master was pleased. “The Force is strong with you. A powerful Sith you will become. Henceforth, you shall be known as Darth…Vader.”

Anakin hardly heard the words through the ringing in his ears. The world seemed to tilt and warp before his eyes, a flash like going backwards through hyperspace, and then darkness consumed his senses.

When he regained his senses, he could see Palpatine as though from a great distance. Like Anakin was standing in the depths of some black cave, looking out on the world.

“Thank you, my Master.”

The words echoed in the dark, bouncing off unseen walls. The voice was familiar but Anakin couldn’t place it.

He quickly took stock of his situation, war-sharpened reflexes keeping his mind working when all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and scream. He was in some kind of cage. He could just make out the dark bars in the shadows. The base of the cage was solid and cold beneath him. He could stand, probably even jump, without touching the top. The width of the cage was about five paces wide in either direction. Enough so that he could entertain the idea of walking but frustratingly never actually go anywhere.

“Rise, Darth Vader,” Chancellor Palpatine was saying from the viewport at the end of the cave.

 _Not a bad idea_ , Anakin conceded. He tried to gather the Force to himself, centre himself in it as he bent his legs and readied a Force jump, but the Force wouldn’t come. It was there, he could sense it, but it was just out of reach.

 _What in the nine Corellian hells is going on_. His lips pursued in a frown, worry nagging at the corners of his mind, Anakin stretched his senses out through the Force, determined to find out all he could.

Wherever he was, he was somehow both here and in Chancellor Palpatine’s office. With the glass blown out and the bodies of Anakin’s fellow Jedi strewn on the floor. So he hadn’t dreamt the incident with Master Windu and Palpatine – no, the Sith Lord Darth Sidious. It was real. He could feel it. He’d done such horrible things. He was currently in the process of doing more horrible things.

Feeling an awful sweep of déjà vu – **_And not just the men... but the women... and the children too_** – Anakin slumped to the floor of the cage. He clutched at his chest where his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. The pain and regret waged for dominance in his mind. It was a nightmare, worse than any Force vision, and he was living it.

For there was no denying it as he watched his perspective rise in the viewport; Darth Vader rising to his Master’s bidding in Anakin’s body. Anakin felt a ghost-like tingle in his own body – metaphysical though he was now sure it was – to match the physical. It was like he was a puppet; his strings being pulled through the dark by some unseen puppet-master – by Darth Vader.

But feeling every step the Sith Apprentice took as if it were his own, watching everything the Sith saw and feeling everything that he felt, as Vader used Anakin’s body for his own designs, Anakin was left with the miserable truth that it was Anakin doing these things. At least, he wasn’t disconnected from it, not fully.

So he was responsible when Vader raised Anakin’s lightsabre using Anakin’s arm and struck down Jedi and younglings alike. And no matter how Anakin screamed for him to stop, no matter how he beat and shook the walls of the cage, Vader ignored him.

Anakin had devolved into a steady stream of _what am I doing oh Force what am I doing what I am doing?_ by the time Padmé met Vader on Mustafar.

“No,” he begged the unrelenting darkness of the cave which he would eventually come to recognise as Vader. “No, please, not her. Not Padmé.”

It didn’t matter. Nothing did before the strength of Vader’s rage.

Vader razed Anakin’s world to the ground then burned along with it.

 _Good_ , Anakin thought viciously, as he burned with Vader. _I deserve this_.

He deserved to suffer for eternity for his wrongs. And death would have been a release he did not deserve. _Dukkra ba dukkra_. Death or freedom. To die was to be free. And, for Anakin Skywalker, who could never be free as long as he lived, death seemed a sweet release. He would have to face the dead, all those slayed by his hands if not his will, and find some way to peace. He didn’t know if he was strong enough for that.

Anakin wished he was crazy. It would have made things easier to accept. That he’d lost his mind to the Dark. But he knew that wasn’t the case. Even as Vader recovered and learned his new body, even as he ruthlessly hunted down all the escaped Jedi and enforced the Emperor’s will, Anakin knew that Vader was choosing to do these things. Whether it was because he felt it was right, or because he felt he had no choice, Vader’s reasons mattered little in the face of the pain he wrought upon the galaxy.

But Anakin had to rationalise all the pain and suffering he felt his own hands causing. He could still sense the Force clearly, even if he couldn’t do anything with it, and he needed to convince himself that he would stop Vader if he could. That these things Vader did were not Anakin. That Vader was not Anakin Skywalker.

Darth Vader was a demon from the Dark Side of the Force. He had possessed Anakin when Anakin had let his guard down in a moment of weakness. So, Vader’s actions were Anakin’s responsibility, his fault, but they weren’t his actions. He would never betray Padmé or Obi-Wan, never attack them with the intent to kill. Anakin had heard legends from the Old Republic of monsters made of the Dark Side, old Sith whose ghosts could possess unsuspecting Force sensitives. Anakin didn’t know how, but Palpatine must have put such a demon inside him.

Anakin found himself wishing he’d paid more attention in history class. Maybe then he would have some idea how to purge the demon Vader from his mind.

After months of living in a cage, always thirsty, always starving, always experiencing phantom pains from his physical body – or what was left of it – Anakin had come to the conclusion that when Vader had taken his body, he had tried to scrub Anakin from his mind, but Anakin’s Force reflexes or maybe just the Force itself had saved him by putting him in this cage. Studying the dark bars revealed that, under a tacky tar-like cold substance was a white light so blinding Anakin had hastily covered it over again with the Dark he had just scraped off of it. It was a cage made of the Force itself, which in theory meant Anakin should be able to open it, but in practice, nothing he tried did anything. No matter how long he meditated, or what tricks he tried, the Force skidded away from his touch like the same polarisation of a magnet. He couldn’t touch it through the fog of his own misery, but that same misery seemed to fuel Vader, increasing his Dark powers.

Anakin was frustrated. If Obi-Wan were here, he’d probably tell him it was the will of the Force. But Obi-Wan wasn’t here. The last he’d seen of him was when he was leaving Anakin on Mustafar to burn. Anakin couldn’t blame him; he would have left himself. (He would have made sure to finish the job, but he felt touched that Obi-Wan couldn’t kill him. He wasn’t so sure that if Obi-Wan was in his place and he was in Obi-Wan’s that he could have killed him.) But now, Obi-Wan was out somewhere, secreted away in a dark corner of the galaxy, trying to survive long enough to do something. Or maybe just trying to survive.

If Anakin ever got free of this Force-forsaken cage, he swore he would find his old friend and make things right. They could kill Vader and the Emperor together, restore the Republic, and end the Sith once and for all.

This fantasy was all that kept Anakin going some days.

Vader quickly earned a reputation as the dog of the Empire. He ruthlessly hunted down any who dared oppose it. Bloodhound, rabid, bloodthirsty, vicious. A legend in his own right.

Anakin had never wanted power or prestige. He had wanted to help people, free slaves, save innocent lives, protect those who couldn’t protect themselves – and Vader did none of those things.

And yet, he also did, from a certain point of view.

Privy as he was with a front-seat view of every moment of Vader’s life, Anakin could see that Vader was…trying…in his own twisted way to pursue similar values as Anakin. He justified hunting down the last of the Jedi because it would protect the galaxy from their influence. He saved innocent civilian lives in the Empire by ruthlessly slaughtering any who threatened it. He treated his ‘troopers with a fair if firm hand, but didn’t hesitate to kill any officers who were too incompetent. He even freed the occasional slave world, when his Master gave him the go-ahead.

He was a monster, but a well-respected and well-feared one.

Anakin saw all of this, which the galaxy also saw to varying extents. But he also saw Vader slowly unravelling at the seams. It had been nearly two years since the fall of the Republic, and in all that time, Vader had not meditated once. He was all _go-go-go_ , never stopping for more than the amount of rest his regular visits to his medical pod dictated. It was like he was afraid to stop and let himself think about what he was doing. Like he knew he wouldn’t be able to justify it to himself if he thought about it for too long.

Anakin could have told him that years ago, if he’d only stopped to ask.

But it did beg the question of how a Dark Side demon could feel regret. Perhaps he had been inside Anakin long enough to start feeling some of Anakin’s feelings. It made Anakin wonder how else he could influence the demon.

Anakin was great at machines, at fixing things, but Vader wasn’t a starship engine or a protocol droid. He was a demon in a partially flesh and blood body. There was no logical solution, but that didn’t mean Anakin couldn’t be rigorous and scientific about trying to fix this.

He set about putting the pressure on Vader, or what little he could from inside his cage. If his feelings could influence the monster, he had a chance, however slim, of one day breaking free and retaking control of his body. (Or what was left of it. Anakin tried not to think about it.)

Anakin settled into a meditative pose and centred himself in the Force. There was nothing but the Dark Side inside the cave that Anakin recognised as Vader’s mind, but Anakin deftly reached around that for the Force he could sense just beyond the barriers of Vader. Anakin forced himself to reflect on the past. On _that day_ in particular. It wasn’t pleasant by any stretch of the term, but replaying the deaths of the Jedi, the younglings, _Padmé_ , and letting his grief flow freely into the space around him was the only way he could think to induce guilt in Vader.

It was a double-edged sword, Anakin could tell. The more he dwelt on Padmé, the more Vader’s Dark Side powers grew. But he had to try. And there was little else he wanted to do but tear himself apart with the misery he’d wrought upon himself. If there was the slightest chance he could take Vader down too, then that was a bonus.

It became a daily mission Anakin tasked himself with. It hurt. It twisted at his heart, all his failures and sorrow, but he didn’t give up. He watched Vader tire further with each passing day. It all came to a head when Vader snapped and killed the entire bridge crew on his Star Destroyer. They had failed to capture a smuggler ship rumoured to be carrying survivors of the Jedi Purge.

He stood, breathing harshly, lightsabre crackling a furious red, over a score of bodies. The bridge door slid open behind him, and his dark head whipped around, hand snapping out and catching the intruder by the throat. The young female officer, clutched at her throat as her windpipe collapsed and her lift lifted off the ground. Her standard issue hat slipped off her head in the struggle, joining the innocuous datapad she’d been carrying on the floor, letting her brunette hair down in its ponytail. Her face was heart-shaped and her skin soft and pale. She was short and slim and her eyes begged Vader for mercy as she choked.

Anakin could sense the exact moment that Vader noticed her likeness to Padmé. His grip on her throat unclenched and she dropped to the ground. He rushed to her side, his desperation sparking around the yawning cavern of his mind, briefly illuminating even the darkest corners. Anakin focused all of his being on his love for Padmé, willing Vader to feel it and remember.

Vader reached trembling hands for hapless officer, pulling the Force around her to heal her crushed throat. “Padmé, Padmé, Padmé, Padmé…” Vader was repeating, his vocoder not doing his frantic hope justice. Vader wasn’t seeing the starship bridge or the strange woman before him; he was trapped in the past, seeing Padmé, smelling the burning ash of Mustafar, feeling her fragile life beneath his fingers-

The woman’s throat repaired itself under Vader’s command and she gasped in a desperate breath. Obviously scared out of her mind, she tried to scramble away from Vader only to be caught by his gloved hands, gripping deathly tight on her hips. She screamed, fighting his grip.

“Shh,” Vader was saying nonsensically. “Shh-sh-sh-shh. Padmé. It’ll be okay. Padmé. Padmé.” Vader’s helmeted head ducked down and pressed into the woman’s stomach. He clung to her like a man thrown a life-raft in a stormy sea.

The woman whimpered and, clearly having no sense of self-preservation, said, “Who’s Pa-P-Padmé?”

“No,” Anakin breathed, pressing closer to the bars like he could stop this woman from signing her own death sentence. “What are you doing? Do you want to die?”

As expected, Vader recoiled from the sudden reality check, but, to Anakin’s surprise, he didn’t follow up with anger. He pulled out an old Jedi mind trick and waved his hand before the officer’s face. “Sleep,” he ordered. The woman’s eyes closed instantly and she relaxed in Vader’s grip. He let her go and stood. Turning, he observed the wreckage he’d made of the bridge, the senseless death he had delivered, and then he swept from the room, stepping over the sleeping officer.

The Emperor was strangely forgiving of Vader’s mood swings. Anakin rather suspected it was because he needed the muscle, as damaged and near death as he was thanks to Master Windu. But not this time. Palpatine commanded Vader to, “Let go of the past. Kill it if you have to.” Vader was resistant and his Master could sense it even across the vastness of space.

“Anakin Skywalker is dead,” Palpatine soothed.

“Hey,” Anakin said indignantly, for all the good it would do.

“You killed him, Lord Vader,” the Emperor rasped. Anakin could feel Vader raise his head, looking for enlightenment from his Master like an obedient dog. Anakin’s lip curled in disgust at the thing that lived in his body. “Let go of Skywalker’s feelings. They are of no use to you. Let the power of the Dark Side guide you.”

“Yes, my Master,” Vader acquiesced. Anakin felt it as Vader opened himself to the Dark and let it flood his senses, rushing back into the places the flames of his love for Padmé had burned clean.

“Oh no you don’t,” Anakin muttered. He concentrated his positive feelings for Padmé, on his love (ignoring his grief), and thrust it outwards into Vader’s mind. His love was like a comet blazing through the night of Vader’s mind.

Vader’s breath would have stuttered if it wasn’t machine regulated. As it was, Anakin’s feelings flared bright in the Force, bringing a scowl to the Emperor’s face. “Control yourself, my young apprentice. Do not let your feelings control you. Use them to increase your Dark powers.”

“Yes, my Master,” Vader tried to centre himself in the familiar cloak of rage and hate, but he choked on Anakin’s love for Padmé and couldn’t get through to the core of sorrow the fuelled him.

Palpatine watched his apprentice struggle for a moment, before he ordered Vader to, “Take meditative leave, Lord Vader. Do not return until you can once again serve the Empire.”

Vader’s Force sense flared with anger. _I’m not weak!_ His mind roared. Anakin flinched at the sudden close and loud sound. He had never heard Vader speak in their shared mind-space before. Whatever Anakin was doing was clearly working to break down the barrier between Vader and himself.

Out loud, Vader simply said, “Yes, my Master.” Palpatine disconnected the call and left Vader alone.

Although, not so alone as the Emperor hoped.

Vader returned to his medical chambers, his emotional turmoil roiling through the Force like a particularly vengeful storm. The remaining living crew of the Star Destroyer were well out of his way, for which Anakin was immensely glad. Just because he had to sit here and watch, didn’t mean he had to enjoy what Vader was doing. Vader’s relish for death was almost equal to his fear of it.

Anakin hummed an old tune that was a favourite of his mother, taking pleasure from tormenting his slaver with his love for his mother. Vader slammed a fist into the glass on the side of the bacta chamber, fracturing the durable material. “Quiet!” he roared at no-one, startling his medical droid. The droid beeped in confusion, then in panic as Vader closed the Force around it and crushed it to the size of a marble.

Vader’s fury at his own conflicted feelings was translating as a red lightning flashing through the darkness. Anakin watched it, fascinated and more than a little horrified. He wasn’t trying to drive the Sith Lord insane; that would hardly help his cause. He wanted him to feel bad enough that he’d let Anakin out, or drained enough that Anakin could trick him into the same. An insane Vader was hardly likely to listen to the words of a slave.

Soon, Vader had calmed himself enough to strip off his armour and lower himself into the bacta. The special atmosphere in his room allowed him to live for a short while without the direct life support of his armour. Anakin gave the chamber and armour the usual scowl. He could have made superior equipment in his sleep, and he knew Vader knew that, so he had to realise the Emperor was keeping them in agony on purpose. Vader didn’t seem to notice though, and if he did, he didn’t care.

Anakin watched with the patience one learns when living alone for a long time as Vader settled into a shallow meditation. Anakin reached out with his senses, feeling as Vader tried to mentally carve away at his own emotions until only what was necessary would be left. Vader failed, miserably. The more he tried to stop thinking about Padmé, and all the resulting feelings, the more persistent those thoughts became.

(If Anakin was helping them along, Vader didn’t need to know that.)

Eventually, frustrated and exhausted beyond comparison, Vader let himself sink into a deeper meditation. As Vader’s physical senses – or what was left of them – faded into background noise, Anakin saw the dark figure of Vader himself appear before the cage. He was taller than Anakin by nearly a foot, and the heavy sound of his boots on what counted for ground in their mind-space confirmed Anakin’s theory that the durasteel limbs would have been impossible for a non-Force-user to move. Vader came before Anakin, stopping at the bars of the cage. Vader was illuminated by a dull red glow that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere. It cast ominous shadows along the curves and lines of Vader’s sleek black helmet and mask. He appeared emotionless, more robot than man, and with most of his body shrouded by his black cape, Anakin had a hard time even reading body language from him. And now that Vader was here and not out there, Anakin found he couldn’t sense Vader’s emotions through the Force. It was disturbing, but he at least hoped that meant it would go both ways. It was easier to lie to a mind-reading monster when the monster couldn’t read his mind.

(Anakin, with a touch of hysteria, thought he should get out more, talk to people. He was starting to go batty alone in here with nothing but his mistakes and Vader to keep him company.)

When Vader said nothing, just breathed his regular, mechanical breaths, presumably staring at Anakin, Anakin plastered on a smile and said, “Hi. I’m Anakin Skywalker. Nice to meet you, …?”

The respirator rattled. Vader didn’t even sway. He stood unnervingly still.

“Darth Vader, right?” Anakin continued chirpily. “I should know; you’re living in my body.”

“Anakin Skywalker is dead.”

Vader’s voice sounded the same as what came out of his vocoder. Being stuck with the demon, Anakin knew he had a normal voice – Anakin’s new, damaged, but still existent voice – so that meant Vader was using his more commanding voice on purpose. Anakin had him unnerved, on the backfoot! This was great! He might actually have a chance to break out of here!

“Finally! I was starting to worry you couldn’t talk, big guy,” Anakin snarked.

“You were thinking about her,” Vader intoned.

Anakin blinked at the direct approach. “’Her’?” he repeated slowly, disgust curling his lips. “You can’t even say her name.”

Vader stared at him.

“Padmé!” Anakin screamed at the demon. “Her name was Padmé! And you killed her! You took her from me! You-” His accusations choked off abruptly as Vader reached through the cage bars with inhuman swiftness to wrap cold, gloved hands around Anakin’s throat. Both of Vader’s hands squeezed, thumbs pressing into Anakin’s windpipe, and Anakin couldn’t breathe, his vision was starting to spot, and he pried at Vader’s hand but the mechanical whirr of the prosthetics only increased as Vader applied more force.

“Obi-Wan took her from me!” Vader spat in Anakin’s face. “You let him betray me!”

Anakin stopped struggling, his blue eyes bright as they connected with Vader’s gaze through the dark red glass of his mask’s eyes. He conveyed through this look alone just how wrong Vader was and how much he pitied him. Vader seemed to get the message because his snarl, poorly translated by the vocoder, was all Anakin registered as Vader flung him back against the far side of the cage.

Anakin slumped on the ground, breath rasping as he tried to calm himself, flesh fingers tender on his bruised neck. He glared up at Vader from the floor. “She…would _never_ …love…you,” Anakin ground out.

The familiar buzz of a lightsabre turning on was all the warning Anakin had before Vader’s red blade struck the cage. Anakin expected to be dead within seconds, but it was immediately apparent that Vader could not cut through the cage not matter how hard he tried. He eventually wore himself down, slashing and hacking away at the cage, and stopped. Anakin had watched the whole display with blazing eyes from the floor. His throat throbbed in agony but he ignored it. Vader was vulnerable and Anakin knew this might be his only chance.

“The only person that betrayed us is the man you now call ‘Master’,” Anakin said firmly. Vader’s lightsabre retracted with a whoosh. Anakin pressed his advantage. “You don’t have to be alone, Darth. We can fix this. _I_ can fix it. You know I can,” he beseeched. “Just let me out.”

“No,” Vader replied tersely. He turned and was gone in a sweep of his cape.

“Kriffing dramatic _sleemo_ ,” Anakin huffed to himself, rubbing at his sore neck.

In the end, Vader never let Anakin out of the cage. But as time passed, the Sith Lord fell into the habit of sinking into deep meditation whenever his mechanical and wrecked body was scheduled for a check-up. He would come to the cage and stare at Anakin for endless stretches. It took Anakin a little while to notice the Sith riffling through his mind, digging in amongst his memories for glimpses of Padmé. When Anakin finally realised what he was doing, he followed Vader back along the tether that irrevocably tied them as one, and watched Vader’s fantasies. He had a vivid imagination, not unlike Anakin’s, and used it to conjure up visions of the many different ways things might have been.

Vader dreamt of Padmé, and of their children, and of a life free of the Emperor’s leash.

Anakin couldn’t believe his luck. Much to his horror, there was more of him in Vader than he had wanted to believe. But he could use this, the military strategist in him said. In his war with Vader, he couldn’t let any path of attack go unused, no matter how badly he wanted to deny the implications that Vader and Anakin _shared the same dreams_ …

Over the years that followed, Vader rarely spoke to Anakin again. But Anakin spoke to him. He would seize any opportunity to reveal Palpatine as a delusional madman who was basically concentrated evil. When Vader met Galen Marek, Anakin didn’t shut up about taking the baby as an Apprentice instead of killing it until Vader caved and did so. Over time, Vader seemed to even be fond of the boy, in his own twisted way. When Anakin suggested – loudly and repeatedly – that Vader and Galen ‘Starkiller’ should overthrow the Emperor together, Vader agreed. It didn’t take much effort on the Emperor’s part to change Vader’s mind to betraying Galen instead of Palpatine, but Anakin stayed Vader’s hand at the last second and convinced him to save the boy. He suggested Galen could overthrow the Emperor without Vader having to lift a finger by forming a Rebel Alliance, and Vader listened. If, in the end, Vader had simply been taking Anakin’s (loudly screeched) ideas and twisting them to his own nefarious purposes, Anakin would never be sure. But the whole incident ended with Galen dead, having given his life to save the fledgling Rebel Alliance.

There had been a Resistance before the Rebel Alliance. Those still loyal to the Republic such as Bail Organa, Mon Mothma and Galen Erso had never let a day go by without trying to undermine the Empire, but Anakin and Galen had militarised the whole thing. Anakin wondered if Vader didn’t regret the success of the Rebel Alliance after the fact.


	2. Episode II: The Princess of Alderaan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia Organa and Anakin Skywalker are quite good friends...not that Leia is at all aware about that.

# Episode II: The Princess of Alderaan

To Anakin’s credit, he never gave up hope of escape. Even as it seemed more and more pointless as more and more years passed, he kept thinking that if he could break out of his cage, he could pay his debt to the galaxy. He could make amends by destroying the Emperor and restoring the Republic, and then he could die and see Padmé again. And maybe if he did all that she would forgive him for letting Darth Vader use his body to kill her. He hoped Padmé understood that it wasn’t him. That he would never hurt her.

But Vader rarely spoke to him. He mostly ignored Anakin unless Anakin shrieked at him for weeks on end. Or when it was convenient for him to use Anakin’s memories and feelings as fuel for either his Dark Side powers or his fantasies of Padmé. And Vader hadn’t listened to him once in the three years since Galen ‘Starkiller’ Marek created the militarist arm of the Alliance to Restore the Republic.

Over twenty long years, Anakin had watched as Vader searched tirelessly for a way to resurrect Padmé, as he fought to protect the civilians of the Empire, as he relished in the deaths of slavers, and as he cared little either way for the deaths of those in either the Imperial military or the Rebellion who had chosen their paths. It wasn’t until the Emperor revealed to Vader the fully operational battle station capable of destroying entire worlds that he’d so dramatically titled the Death Star, that Vader faltered without prompting from Anakin. His faith in the Dark Side waivered.

Anakin, who had been watching from the shadows for years, who rattled the bars of his cage and shouted at Vader whenever he had the will to, leapt on the opportunity.

“It’s an abomination,” Anakin said. He could feel Vader felt the same. “The Emperor cares not for the innocents he will kill with his new toy. If it brings him more power, that justifies it in his eyes. But you know it’s wrong. You know you do. You can stop it. You have to stop it.”

_“_ **I can’t**.”

Vader’s booming voice shook the cage. Anakin blinked away his shock and retorted, “Oh so _now_ you’re too weak to do anything? What about Galen, hmm?” He threw the name of Vader’s apprentice at him. He knew the Sith had cared about his Dark Jedi apprentice in his own twisted way. It vaguely resonated like how Anakin felt about Ahsoka. And Vader had been happy enough to use Galen against the Emperor when it suited him.

“What about Leia Organa?” he tried again. Vader knew the girl was a Rebel spy. He’d known from day one and he hadn’t cared because she had been good conversation. She was possibly the only person Vader had met that wasn’t his Master and wasn’t scared of him. As long as she steered clear of anything important enough to warrant the wrath of the Emperor’s Hand, Vader would let her have her little Rebellion. Anakin had been surprised by how lenient the Sith Lord was towards the Organa girl at first, but he’d figured out seconds later what it was. Leia reminded Vader of Padmé. The same passion for peace and democracy and fairness that had fuelled Anakin’s wife burned in the Princess of Alderaan. Anakin thought amusedly that they would have been a force to be reckoned with, then sank into depression at the immediate follow-up realisation that such a thing would never be.

Padmé’s death continued to hit Anakin at the strangest times, and every time it felt like the first time.

_“_ **They aren’t relevant** ,” Vader spat back.

Anakin struggled past his surprise that Vader was continuing their conversation to say, “You can’t let Palpatine get away with this. What would Padmé say?”

_“_ **DON’T you say her name to me** ,” Vader roared.

Anakin deftly changed tact. He couldn’t let this opportunity slip by. “Get stationed on the Death Star,” he told Vader. “Stay on Tarkin’s good side. Sabotage the station when they’re not looking. You can do it. You’re good with machines.”

_I’m good with machines_ , was what Anakin wanted to say. But he felt Vader wouldn’t take kindly to being reminded he wasn’t the original occupier of their body.

Vader didn’t reply but Anakin felt his acceptance of the plan as a possibility. It was more than Anakin had hoped for in years.

Galen Erso had designed the Death Star with a deadly flaw. It was his last great act of defiance against the Empire. As a fellow engineer and despiser of the Emperor, Anakin fully approved. Even Vader seemed reluctantly impressed, from the impressions Anakin was getting from him. Anakin barely had to glance through Vader’s eyes at the Death Star blueprints before he figured out what the flaw was. It was ingenious really. No-one would even think it was an exploitable flaw. You’d need an advanced targeting system the likes of which the Rebels really couldn’t afford, or the Force to hit that exhaust vent. It was barely two metres wide and was completely innocuous. Anakin couldn’t be prouder if he’d designed it himself.

That being said, he was sad he would never get the pleasure of thanking Erso for his plan. Vader was simply pissed that Erso’s child had gotten the Death Star plans to Leia before she died.

Vader really didn’t want to have to destroy the only person both he and Anakin enjoyed talking to.

Capturing Leia Organa’s ship was not part of Anakin’s plan. Or Vader’s, for that matter. The hulking cyborg seemed to regret catching up to the Senatorial ship, even as he threatened the Senator to reveal what she had done with the Death Star plans. Vader knew he must retrieve the plans to maintain his high position with the Emperor and even with Grand Moff Tarkin. But he was angry it was going to cost him his conversational companion. He was angry at Leia for being so foolish as to let her actions be so transparent that there would be no escaping this time. He could hardly turn a blind eye to such blaring and open defiance.

Anakin would miss Leia’s company immensely. She had been the only highlight of visiting Coruscant, and of being forced to attend political events. Anakin hoped she would find a way to escape or that some brave fool would come rescue her. He knew Vader would let her go if he was given a good enough excuse. Whether that same hope in Vader was organic or just bleed-over from Anakin, Anakin wasn’t sure. Sometimes the line between them blurred more than he was comfortable with.

But, regardless of any feelings he may have had towards the Princess, Vader tortured Leia. Anakin threw himself bodily against his cage but it didn’t break or bend. Like always, even his greatest strength produced merely a rattle. In the end, the Princess was tougher even than Anakin’s cage. She didn’t tell Vader a thing and the steel walls around her mind were impenetrable. Vader would have to report his failure to Tarkin. Anakin hoped the Moff would chalk it up to Leia’s stubbornness and not see how Vader didn’t really go 100% on her. Anakin wasn’t sure Vader himself knew he’d gone easier on Leia than he would have if it had been anyone else.

As Vader walked their body to the bridge of the Death Star, Anakin pondered what Tarkin’s next move would be. Anakin had known him since the Clone Wars and he knew the kind of man Tarkin was. Vader cared little for the man, and Anakin was sure that, at least, was bleed-over. Tarkin was the sort of efficient Vader would normally appreciate, but Anakin hated the man and Vader hated easily so it wasn’t hard to get the Sith to adopt the same position.

Tarkin would, now he’d been granted the power to destroy worlds, want to pursue his doctrine of ruling the galaxy through fear. That sort of thing was great food for the Dark Side but would do little for galactic stability and peace. No-one would take something like the Death Star lying down. The Rebels wouldn’t know what to do with all the new recruits they were about to get if the Death Star’s true potential was ever shown. And Tarkin would surely demonstrate that power. On the nearest available target that would make a good public spectacle.

Alderaan.

Anakin’s blood ran cold, which was saying something because it was always cold in his cage. “Vader,” Anakin implored, gripping the oozing bars of his cage tight in his fists. “Listen to me. You can’t let Tarkin destroy Alderaan.”

He felt Vader’s steps falter a half-beat in their pace.

Then, as quiet as a thunderous voice could be, Vader asked, “ **How do you know he plans to target Alderaan? It is a peaceful world.** ”

“What else would a _wermo_ like Tarkin do next?” Anakin postulated. “Not every Alderaanian is a Rebel; you can’t let them die for nothing.”

Vader was silent but for the rasp of his respirator and the thunking of his feet. Then, “ **What would you have me do?** ”

Anakin straightened up from his constant semi-defeated slump. This was it. Vader was listening to reason! “Send a message ahead to Bail Organa,” Anakin suggested the first hasty plan that came to mind. “He can begin evacuations. Then buy time with Tarkin. Just enough to get everyone off-world.”

Vader had reached the bridge. He looked across the vast grey expanse at Tarkin, who had his back to them as he discussed plans with his Vice-Admiral. Anakin could feel Vader’s repulsion towards the man writhing through the dark cave like so many Hutt children.

Tarkin seemed to sense the glare because he turned around and nodded stiffly at Vader. “Lord Vader,” he greeted with propriety. “How are things progressing with the prisoner?”

Vader should report that Leia Organa can’t be broken. He should report that he has failed and they will need to try something else.

But he could choose to lie. To pretend the Princess was breaking and only needed a little more time.

Anakin waited with baited breath to see what Darth Vader would choose.

“Her resistance to the mind probe is negligible,” Vader reported to Tarkin. “It won’t be long before we can extract any information from her.”

“Yes,” Anakin cheered quietly, eyes lighting with hope. “ _Yes_.”

An Imperial Officer took that moment to interrupt their meeting. “The final check-out is complete. All systems are operational. What course shall we set?”

Tarkin considered the officer briefly before returning to Vader with a glint to his eye Anakin did not like one bit. “Perhaps we can speed the process,” he suggested coolly. “Perhaps she would respond to an alternative form of persuasion.”

Vader stared at Tarkin in disappointment even though the man couldn’t see it. “What do you mean?” he rumbled.

Tarkin turned to look out of the viewport with perfect military posture. “I think it is time we demonstrate the full power of this station.” Before Vader could get a word in edgewise, Tarkin commanded the pilots to, “Set your course for Princess Leia's home planet of Alderaan.”

Vader had to remind himself not to strangle Tarkin so loud even Anakin heard it. Anakin stifled a laugh because this was _not_ the time to break down into hysterics. “You have to send the message,” Anakin stated swiftly. “Go, now.”

Vader took his leave of Tarkin, saying something about how he would go see to the prisoner, and swept from the bridge with his cloak flaring dramatically.

Anakin had to admit he was a bit envious of the cape. The Jedi had never let him have a cape.

“ **Organa will not listen to me** ,” Vader told Anakin as he strode with purpose towards his chambers. Anakin knew he meant Bail, though his daughter wouldn’t listen to him either come to think of it. “ **How do you suggest we convince him to evacuate his entire planet within the next few hours?** ”

Anakin snarked, “And why do you think that is?” Then he sighed and tried to gather his thoughts. The imminent destruction of an entire planet, culture and _people_ was weighing heavy upon the Jedi’s mind. The fact that it weighed on the Sith’s too perhaps showed the bad influence that living with Anakin Skywalker could have.

“What if we stage an escape for the princess?” Anakin suggested at length. “She can get a message to her father.”

“ **And you suppose Governor Tarkin will not notice a wayward princess roaming the halls of his battle station?** ”

“No need to get snarky,” Anakin berated hypocritically. “Look, what other choice do you have? What would Padmé do if she were here?”

Rage flared sharply, paired with grief, through Vader’s mind, rattling Anakin’s cage. “ **She would stop at nothing to save Alderaan** ,” Vader admitted, as softly as his voice could.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Anakin urged. He gripped the bars of his cage tightly, squeezing so hard the light leaked out between his fingers.

Vader was like a bat out of hell as he swept with purpose towards his quarters. He could not go to the princess directly; no, that would be suicide for them both. But the princess was relatively Force sensitive, so Vader and Anakin thought this was their best shot.

Vader settled down on his disused mediation mat, the metal of his joints groaning in protest as he sat heavily. His cape swept out behind him, back ramrod straight, he cut a striking figure. A pity only his personal medical droid was here to see it. Speaking of… A wave of Vader’s hand shut the droid down. He would wake it again when it wouldn’t register his strange behaviour and report it to the Emperor like it did with anything new Vader tried. He would have to manually go back and fill in the blank in its memory later, but Vader had claimed everything that was Anakin’s as his own, including his knack for mechanics, so it wouldn’t be too hard.

Anakin wondered if he should meditate too or if that would interfere with the Sith’s plans. No matter, because Vader appeared before the cage in short form. “Skywalker,” he thundered in greeting.

“Darth,” Anakin snipped back. It was a title, not a name, and it irked Vader endlessly to be called that. “Aren’t you supposed to be going to the princess?”

Darth Vader stared emotionlessly at Anakin, or maybe that was just the mask, before intoning, “She will hardly listen to me any more than her father.” Anakin was about to open his mouth to protest that when Vader added, “Perhaps she will listen to you.”

Anakin would have fallen over if he wasn’t holding the bars so tightly. “What?” He gaped at Vader.

“Do not make me repeat myself, Jedi,” Vader sneered. “I will let you out of your cage to speak to Senator Organa.”

Anakin could hardly believe his luck. He was being set free? Finally, after all these years? There had to be a catch. Obi-Wan would have been able to tell him what it was, but his old friend wasn’t here. All he had was Vader. And all Vader had, at times, was Anakin, as much as Vader didn’t want to admit it. He wouldn’t want to cede control of their body to Anakin unless he had to, and he certainly wouldn’t do it in any permanent capacity…

“You want me to return after I talk to her,” Anakin realised slowly. Blue eyes were wide with horror as he said, “I don’t think I can do that.”

“You must,” Vader insisted. “Or Alderaan will perish.”

That was hardly a choice. Anakin felt resentful that even Vader was taking his choices from him. (But then again, who else did Vader have left to enslave but Anakin?) But it was still a choice, however poor. Last time Anakin had made a decision he’d wound up in a cage for two decades. He’d have to hope this decision was better than the last, at least.

“Okay,” he bit out. “Okay, Darth. You win. I’ll talk to Leia then come back like a faithful dog. Is that what you want to hear?”

Vader didn’t answer. He simply placed a mechanical hand over Anakin’s, letting the tar slide over the connection. The black suddenly gripped their hands with force and Anakin cried out in surprise. Within seconds, the black had slithered up Anakin and Vader, covering their bodies. Anakin tried to pry his hand away from Vader, choking on the darkness, to no avail, but then without warning Vader let go and Anakin stumbled backwards. He hurriedly wiped at his face to remove the tar but there was nothing there but skin.

“What…?” He breathed through his confusion and looked up. There, standing in the dark cage, was Darth Vader. He looked menacing even behinds bars. Anakin was the Hero with No Fear and all but even he had to admit his other self was more intimidating than a pissed off Wookie – and that was when Vader was calm. And he was calm for now, watching Anakin impassively, but Anakin had to wonder how long that calm would last. Not long, in all likelihood. Not if Anakin kept him in the cage longer than he’d promised.

“Go,” Vader ordered, startling Anakin out of his reverie. “Speak with Senator Organa.”

Anakin didn’t need to be told twice. He popped off an insubordinate salute, then opened his real eyes for the first time in years. His vision was met with the red readouts of Vader’s life-support suit that Anakin had become so used to seeing. But while he had felt Vader’s pains, he wasn’t prepared for the feeling of _not having any limbs_. And where his body used to be were cybernetic limbs durasteel-bolted into his bones. His skin festered where burns had never healed. His lungs burnt with every artificially-forced breath. He didn’t feel like himself. He ached in ways he never could have imagined possible. It seemed as if every cell in his body was still on Mustafar in the fires.

Anakin suddenly understood why Vader was so angry all the time.

There was no time to dwell, and precious little time to do what must be done. Anakin could feel Vader’s darkness inside him. In his mind, like a little black hole sucking the life and warmth out of the room, waiting. Impatient. He just hoped that Vader’s Force presence hadn’t disappeared from the Emperor’s senses and that Anakin Skywalker hadn’t reappeared on them in Vader’s place. That…would take some explaining.

Anakin violently pushed those thoughts aside and squeezed his eyes shut. He drew the Force to him, centring himself in its light and life, ignoring the Dark pull at the edges of his conscious. He reached through the Force, stretching his senses through the Death Star, briefly touching upon the lives of the men stationed there, getting fleeting flashes of thoughts and feelings from them before moving on. And then, finally, he found the princess.

Leia Organa was where he expected her to be; in the prison holding cell where Vader had left her mere hours before. She was half-conscious, obviously hurt and woozy from the physical and mental torture Vader had subjected her to, but she was capable still, Anakin could sense. Her mental shields were still present, but not as ironclad as when she knew Vader was present. She obviously sensed Anakin’s presence, as she pushed herself into a sitting position. She looked around the cell, blank and white as ever, in confusion.

“Who’s there?” she demanded aloud.

Anakin chuckled, his secret friendship with the young woman bleeding across his Force presence until she could feel the affection. She blinked, then frowned. Anakin could have kicked himself; he wasn’t very could at hiding his feelings anymore, not after so many years of actively trying not to. Looked like he’d have to skip the pleasantries and go for the direct approach. Vader would approve, he thought sardonically.

“ _Leia_ ,” he spoke as gently as he could into her mind. She would hear his words as if through her ears but since he really wasn’t there, it was all in her head.

“Who are you?” Leia snapped, backing up against the white wall. “Where are you?”

“ _That’s not important_ ,” Anakin winced at his own unconvincing words. “ _What is important is the fact that the Death Star is moving to destroy Alderaan as we speak_.”

“What?” she gasped. “No. Alderaan is a peaceful world. They would never-”

“ _You know they would_ ,” Anakin interrupted. “ _Or, Tarkin would, at least, and the Emperor would do nothing to stop him._ ”

“Why are you telling me this?” Leia asked desperately.

Anakin reflected that she was taking this rather well for an untrained Force-sensitive. “ _So you can stop it_ ,” he said.

“How?” Leia argued. “I’m a little preoccupied at the moment, if you haven’t noticed.” She gestured viciously at her sealed prison.

Anakin’s eyes, closed in meditation though they were, rolled fondly. She reminded him a lot of Padmé; if he was being honest, they even looked similar. But, no, he was starting to sound like Vader; seeing Padmé in every other brunette humanoid to come their way.

“ _I’ll get you out_ ,” said Anakin. “ _But you have to promise to follow my instructions. You need to send a message ahead to your father so he can evacuate Alderaan. There’s no way to stop Tarkin from destroying the planet, but that doesn’t have to be the end of Alderaan. You can save them, Leia._ ”

Anakin could sense Leia’s agreement. She was hardly about to turn down an opportunity to help others, especially her own people, but she did remain wary of the mysterious voice in her head.

“ _You are wise to remain wary of me, child_ ,” Anakin said, proudly. “ _Now, come. Let’s get you out of this cell._ ”

Anakin withdrew from Leia’s mind for the most part, leaving only a thread of connection so he could sense her surface emotions. He pulled out an old Jedi mind trick, a favourite of Obi-Wan’s, on the Stormtroopers guarding the cell block. Then, he focused his concentration on the wiring for the cell door, and poked around until he found the right ones. A quick tug and the seal on the door released. The white panel slid open and Anakin returned his focus to Leia in time to sense her gaping at the free passage. She recovered swiftly, gathering herself even as she ducked her head out into the clear corridor.

“Where are the guards?” she hissed quietly at the voice in her head.

Anakin gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. “ _Busy earning themselves an official reprimand for sleeping on the job_ ,” he replied cheekily. Sure enough, when Leia cautiously made her way to the exit and passed the guard station, she could see two Stormtroopers splayed out and snoring at their desks. She barely stifled a laugh which bordered on the hysterical.

“What do I do now?” she asked the voice.

Anakin wondered who she thought he was, that she was trusting him so implicitly. He’d have to ask, if he ever had time. “ _I’ll direct you to Darth Vader’s private comm station_ ,” Anakin explained, only half-concentrating on Leia as he messed with the security recordings for the prison block. They would show only the ‘troopers lazing at their desks. “ _You can send an encrypted high-speed message from there to your father._ ”

“From Vader’s comm station?” Leia hissed unhappily. “You must be mad.”

“ _Probably_ ,” Anakin conceded with a grin. “ _But all the best people, mad they are_.” He quoted one of Yoda’s favourite sayings. Probably the mad troll’s second favourite after _Judge me by my size, do you?_ Did it count as a saying if he said it often enough? Anakin didn’t know. And thinking of the little Grandmaster just made his heart ache. He didn’t even know if Yoda had survived the purge. Obi-Wan, Anakin was sure, was out there somewhere, alive and relatively well. He could still sense him through their training bond even if it was closed from Obi-Wan’s end. The simple presence of that mental blast door was enough reassurance the old fool was out there, probably making some unsuspecting Force-sensitive’s life a living hell. Anakin chuckled fondly at the thought, even as his heart only ached further.

Thankfully, Leia had apparently decided that she was fool enough to follow Anakin, fool though she thought him to be, because she nodded at him resolutely. Anakin gave her directions through the maze of hallways of the Death Star, all the while keeping his senses tuned for anyone approaching, biological or mechanic. He helped Leia dodge a couple of Stormtrooper patrols and the little boxy droid that ceaselessly roamed the halls cleaning, and eventually they made it to Vader’s office. They were presently empty, as the man himself was occupying his private chambers, and Vader had no personal staff aboard Tarkin’s monstrosity. Vader had wisely left his crew on the _Executor_ , his Super Star Destroyer. They were back at Tatooine, retrieving the plans for the Death Star. Well, probably failing at retrieving the plans. Stormtroopers were not known for their competence. It was one of Vader’s constant sources of annoyance, and one of Anakin’s only sources of amusement. They couldn’t hit the broad side of a Star Destroyer if they were floating next to it, let alone retrieve information from people as tight-lipped as those on Tatooine.

“ _We’re here_ ,” Anakin chirped as he opened the doors for Leia. She cautiously entered Vader’s office, looking like she rather expected the Sith Lord to jump out from behind a potted vase like a perverse prank. “ _Welcome to the personal offices of Darth Vader. The comm station is on the desk. Password is 72363-2642L._ ”

Leia obediently entered the code and Anakin felt her surprise as the computer turned on without a problem. “How do you know these things?” Leia asked, as she hurriedly typed a message for her father in what looked to be a family code.

Anakin did not have a good answer for that. At least, none the princess would want to hear. “ _The Force_ ,” he went with in the end. She wasn’t trained and would hopefully not know any better and just accept his answer.

Her slim fingers hesitated a nanosecond in typing. “You _are_ a Jedi,” she breathed, like she was confirming her hypothesis.

_Hardly_ , Anakin thought depressingly. “ _There are no Jedi left in the galaxy_ ,” he said carefully.

She scowled. “Yes. Darth Vader saw to that.”

Anakin hummed non-committedly. When he saw she had finished the message, he instructed her on how to encrypt and send the message. Leia did as asked, and only when the message was sent did she and Anakin relax. In tandem, they let out a held breath, then laughed quietly at each other.

“Now,” Leia brushed her hands together, as if she could clean the sensation of touching anything belonging to Vader from them. “How do I get off this station?”

Anakin winced, tried to hide that feeling, and failed miserably.

Leia seemed to read from his uncomfortable silence that she wasn’t getting off the Death Star. “I’m not, am I,” she said, not really a question.

“ _I’m sorry,_ ” Anakin apologised weakly. “ _They’ll notice soon that you’re not where you’re supposed to be. There isn’t enough time for you to escape safely. I don’t want you to die_ ,” he confessed.

Leia steeled herself, probably calling upon her training as a Rebel spy. Prepared to die for her noble cause. _No_ , Anakin thought fiercely, _not if I have anything to say about it_.

“Do I have enough time to get back to my cell?” she asked bravely.

Anakin felt pride swell up in him for his unknowing friend of the last three years. “ _Yes, but we must hurry_.”

Leia did hurry. She did exactly as Anakin asked, both equally aware that should she be caught there would be questions as to what she had been doing. Since, obviously, she wasn’t trying to escape. But the Force must still be with them because Leia made it back to her cell undiscovered. She stood before the white expanse, trying to hide the tremble in her limbs by tucking her arms around herself. Anakin felt his heart go out for the young woman. She was barely grown out of being a girl and here she was, readying herself for what she had to think was her inevitable continued torture and eventual painful death.

“ _Leia_ ,” Anakin said helplessly, wanting to do something, say anything, to make her feel even a little better.

She sniffled and held her chin high and stepped into the room. “I’m fine,” she told Anakin stubbornly. “As long as my people live, and the Death Star is destroyed, I will be fine.”

Anakin wondered who she was trying to convince more with that statement, but he let it slide. He wrapped invisible, intangible arms around Leia; one first and likely final hug of friendship. “ _May the Force be with you, Leia Organa_ ,” he said as he pulled away from Leia’s mind with great reluctance.

The door to the cell closed with a hiss. Outside, the Stormtroopers awoke, each embarrassed enough to never mention to the other they had dozed off, and the security cameras reset from their loop.

“Thank you,” Leia said to the air. She lay down on the flat surface that counted for a bed in an Imperial cell and tried to calm herself in the knowledge that, whatever came next, the people of Alderaan would be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> My goal is to publish a new chapter once or twice a fortnight. I'm trying to stay ahead of the curve with chapters in the backlog in case I get a dreaded case of writer's block, but I'm really having fun writing this, and I hope you're having fun reading it!, so I don't think there will be any problems.  
> I'm a new fan to the Star Wars EU/Legends, although a long-time fan of the movies, so if there is anything I get wrong, please do let me know. BTW, Anakin and co are rounding up to '20 years' because it sounds more dramatic that way. I know it's more like 18/19.  
> May the Force be with you.


	3. Episode III: Defiance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader muses on his life from the cage.

# Episode III: Defiance

Darth Vader had not killed Anakin Skywalker. He had never wanted to. Skywalker’s pain was the basis of Darth Vader’s very existence. Vader was the strength to Skywalker’s weakness. All that had once been Skywalker’s was now his to keep or destroy as he willed. Anyone that had betrayed him or Skywalker had been the first to go. Anyone that threatened to get close enough to Vader to potentially betray him now was also fair game. Unfortunate for the occasional Storm Trooper or officer that happened to see Vader without his mask, but necessary to protect himself. And Skywalker.

Vader had to live with the weight of all of Skywalker’s failures – but none weighed so heavy as what he had done to Padmé. In his anger, Vader had killed her. It was the only crime Vader had committed that he couldn’t justify to himself.

The Jedi? Posed a threat to peace in the galaxy. As long as there were Jedi, there could be no peace.

The younglings from the Jedi Temple? Were better off dead. Cursed by fate and genetics to be Force-sensitive, they would grow to be either Jedi or Sith, and the galaxy could not survive any more of either of those. Vader intended that the current Master and Apprentice Sith would be the last. If Vader’s Master had gotten his claws on the younglings, he would have twisted every last one of them to the Dark. (And if Vader, newborn and in the throws of the Dark Side, had not been able to stomach the idea of putting all those innocent younglings through the same twisting, wrenching, soul-altering pain of Falling he was experiencing… Padmé would not have considered it a justification, but Vader knew he was saving the younglings even as he cut them down. He had to believe he was, no matter how loudly Skywalker had screamed and cried and begged for him to stop.)

But Padmé’s death and the death of their child… Vader had no justification for those. He had been angry, confused, betrayed – and he had turned on Padmé in his anger. He hadn’t wanted to kill her, just teach her a lesson about what happened to those who crossed Darth Vader – he would not be a doormat like Skywalker had been – but he must not have known his strength, he realised later, when he was alone.

All alone in the galaxy, except for his one constant companion in Skywalker.

Skywalker never left Vader alone. Even when he was silent, Vader could sense him. Sense his disapproval, his self-loathing, his hatred of Vader – his tiny spark of hope for redemption. Vader was not sorry to disappoint him. He was a fool to think it was possible to come back from the things Vader had done. Padmé was gone. There was nothing to go back to.

But Vader could still save the galaxy. Protect it, the way Padmé would have wanted him to. He would support the Empire, build its strength, because the galaxy had strangled itself with the length of free-will it had been given and it had proven itself not worthy of choice. It needed a Master. Darth Sidious was the one being who could bring the galaxy to kneel.

Sometimes, the Emperor would cross lines Vader didn’t even know where still important to him, and it ate at him, building his resentment and anger and hatred, fuelling his Dark powers. Yet Vader remained loyal, for the most part. On the rare occasion that Sidious pushed him too far, he would listen to Skywalker for advice on how best to enact vengeance upon their Master.

Vader had been content with this, the status quo, for years. But then Skywalker had to perk up at the mention of the Death Star. And, being rather at a loss for what to do about this ultimate instrument of the Dark Side (which made Vader himself seem obsolete), Vader had actively listened to Skywalker’s prattling for the first time since the utter disaster that he’d made in encouraging the Rebels.

For all that Anakin Skywalker was a weak fool who had let the Republic, the Jedi and all in between take advantage of him, he had a point. Vader couldn’t very well let Tarkin have free run of the galaxy. Vader believed in the Empire; he did not believe in mindless genocide. (Genocide with a reason, on the other hand, he was perfectly fine with.)

So, if Anakin wanted them to help the Rebel Princess save her home-world, Vader was inclined to agree with him. The people of Alderaan were millions of innocent Imperial citizens who had no idea of their royal family’s involvement with the so-called Alliance to Restore the Republic. They had not put so much as a toe out of line, and yet Tarkin would see them turned to space-dust. If Vader wasn’t fond of Tarkin to begin with, he positively loathed the man now. If only he wasn’t one of his Master’s favourites, he would simply crush the pompous fool’s windpipe and be done with it. But the Emperor would be rather upset to lose one of his favourite pawns and Vader would be rather upset if he was electrocuted because of a _sleemo_ like Tarkin.

Great. He spoke with Skywalker for five minutes and he’s reverting to speaking like him.

Vader gave the bars of the cage his most livid glare, the kind that could (literally) melt spines (were he so inclined and had his trusty lightsabre on hand). What was taking Skywalker so long? He should have just dealt with the princess himself. That incompetent slave-boy was an inefficient, weak-willed, _sentimental_ -

Skywalker blinked into existence before the cage with a flashbang not unlike a supernova. Vader focused his glare on the Jedi as his eyes adjusted to the light, happy to have something to really focus his rage upon. “You’re late,” Vader rumbled ominously.

Skywalker had the gall to roll his obnoxiously blue eyes at Vader. “I wasn’t aware I was on a deadline,” he snapped. “Besides, weren’t you watching?” He gestured over his shoulder into the darkness.

Vader’s gaze slowly followed the direction Skywalker indicated. It was simply a dark expanse. “What are you blithering on about now, Skywalker?” he growled.

Skywalker frowned and checked over his own shoulder. Vader watched him mouth a quiet ‘oh’ before turning back to the Sith Lord. “You couldn’t see anything?”

“You were meditating,” Vader explained, like he might have spoken to a small, idiotic child he wasn’t allowed to kill. “All I could see were the insides of my eyelids.”

And there he went with that ‘oh’ again. The cage creaked ominously under the force of Vader’s rage. You wouldn’t want to be the first person in his path he could actually kill, once he was out of this cage, that was for sure.

“I suppose this is when I get back in the cage,” Skywalker said slowly.

Vader trembled with fury. _He best not be considering leaving me in here._ “That would be wise,” Vader advised solemnly.

But Skywalker did seem to be considering it. He stepped up to the cage, studying it from the outside with fascination plainly written on his face. He was awful at concealing his emotions. Vader wasn’t much better, to be sure, but he at least hid them behind the comforting shield of his mask. Skywalker was a fool to let himself be so expressive.

( _I used to be so good at hiding what I was feeling_. The thought hit Vader and he violently shoved it aside.)

“What will you do if I don’t?” Skywalker asked at length. “What if you stay in the cage for the next twenty years? Seems a fair trade.”

Vader was on his feet and slamming furious fists into the bars in the span of a blink. “You would not dare,” he seethed.

Skywalker crossed his arms, appearing for all the galaxy as smug as his old mentor. “Watch me,” he spat.

Vader uttered a roar and began to pry the bars aside. His bionic arms whirred in protest and Skywalker looked smug, but this only served to fuel Vader’s rage. He focused on his anger, grabbing the Dark Side and bending its power to him, just as he began to bend the bars of the cage. Skywalker’s eyes widened in fear – _Good_ , Vader thought with vicious satisfaction. _You should be afraid of me_. – and he backed up a few paces.

Although the bars bent, they did not bend far. Certainly not far enough to let Vader free. For as he gripped them tight, his gloves began to sink through the comforting dark into the burning bright below. He caught fire and burned like it was Mustafar all over again and Obi-Wan was smirking down at him in victory, leaving him there to burn and die a slow death, but Vader wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t give Obi-Wan the satisfaction, _he’d show him the extent of his power_ -

He heard screaming as he finally relented and released his grip. It took him a moment to realise both he and Skywalker had been screaming. He looked up from his partially melted hands to see Skywalker clutching his own to his chest. He was kneeling on the ground and looked to be holding some kind of white fire in his hands. It appeared to originate from his chest, which is where he finally returned it with a sharp cry of pain.

It was pure Force. Vader had been unravelling himself and Skywalker at the seams. He considered the ramifications of this through the dark burning coals of his fury. If Skywalker didn’t want to return, to hide in the safety of his cage, he would destroy them both. Vader was not a patient man but he could wait and watch for Skywalker’s next moment of weakness. He would want to come back to his cage. After all, Skywalker was born a slave, and once a slave, always a slave. And slaves preferred the safety of their cages.

“I will never be a Sith,” Skywalker snarled at the dark floor of the cave. “You are not the master of me! My name is Anakin Skywalker and I am a Jedi!” Blue eyes snapped up to glare at Vader with the kind of righteous fury Vader used to fuel his own dark powers. But those eyes, though tinged with amber, were not Sith yellow. It seemed Skywalker had used his raw power in the Force to reject the Dark Side of the Force. That which he had promised to follow and embraced, that which had birthed Darth Vader, he was finally finding the strength to say ‘no’ to.

Vader was starting to think he should never have let Skywalker out of his cage.

“I am free,” Anakin Skywalker said. He rose to his feet and stared down the Dark side of himself, refusing to acknowledge that he could never truly be free of Vader, of what he had chosen to be.

And like that, he was gone from their mental landscape. Vader would not be idle as he waited. He disregarded his mangled hands and began tearing at the cage again, letting the pain fuel him.

He would escape. It was only a matter of time. Like Obi-Wan before him, Anakin Skywalker was a fool to let him live.

Anakin Skywalker had broken a lot of oaths in his life. His oath to Vader, to return to the cage, was barely a promise really. More like an acknowledgement of possibilities. He hadn’t been lying to Vader when he said he’d return, not at the time. But the situation changed. He’d had a taste of freedom. He’d felt the Force again in its entirety. He’d spoken with someone other than Vader for the first time since he’d last spoken to Palpatine and pledged his allegiance.

Oh, there was another oath he was in the process of breaking. He was really going for a galaxy-wide-record here.

Anakin would have whistled were his destroyed vocals capable. His _everything_ hurt, and really, he needed to invest in better medical care decades ago, but nothing could bring down his good mood as he strolled towards the brig of the Death Star. His internal struggle against Darth Vader had taken time, a lot more than he’d anticipated, and someone really ought to check on the princess. You know, make sure she hadn’t escaped and what not.

As he walked, he realised one of the little boxy cleaning droids was following him. _Ah, a spy from Tarkin. How original._ He abruptly spun around and pounced on the little droid. He scooped it up in one giant hand and brought it up to mask level. “You’re coming with me,” he informed the small droid cheerily.

The droid let out a series of beeps in binary which roughly translated to, _He’s gone mad. I’m dead. I’m a dead droid. Oh, I’m as good as scrap. Somebody help me!_

Anakin chuckled and patted the flat top of the droid in a friendly manner, carefully with his increased strength to not accidentally crush it. The poor thing spun its treads as fast as it could in an attempt to escape, but with Vader’s hand placed squarely between them, it had no traction and no hope. He carried it all the way to the detention cell, holding it like it was a baby nerf, and then passed it to an extremely confused Stormtrooper who was smart enough not to question Darth Vader about any odd behaviour.

“Hold this droid, soldier,” Anakin ordered firmly, his voice unrecognisable to himself because he sounded like Vader. “You. Show me to the princess.” The second ‘trooper snapped a sharp salute, nearly knocking himself out with the force of the blow – Anakin could feel his mortification through the Force and subsequent relief that Vader wasn’t immediately choking him for it – and then he led Vader to Leia Organa’s cell. He keyed open the door and Vader stepped inside.

“Your Highness,” Anakin greeted, using his serious voice like he once did for Snips.

Leia had scrambled to her feet with the kind of dignity and grace only someone with royal training could manage when he had entered. Now she was glaring at him like she would set fire to him with her mind if only she could. Anakin thought wryly that such an act would be of the Dark Side.

“Lord Vader,” Leia sneered, her tone bordering on rebellious. “To what do I owe the honour of this visit?”

“You’re to be taken to the bridge,” Anakin informed her, aware it was impossible to sound gentle with a voice like his. He settled for trying to send out soothing feelings through the Force. He watched them slip off of the princess like water off a bantha’s back and tried not to despair. “Governor Tarkin wishes to speak with you about the location of the Rebel base.”

Leia stared defiantly at him. “He only wishes to speak to me because of your failure to extract the information,” she taunted.

Anakin wondered in amazement if the girl had any self-preservation at all. Who spoke to _Darth_ _Vader_ like that? Perhaps she was just trying to buy time, much like Anakin himself was. So he continued the conversation as amicably as he thought he could reasonably get away with while pretending to be Vader.

“Your mind has considerable resistance against external attacks,” Anakin complimented. “You would die before you talk.”

Leia tamped down hard on a flinch, and thinking back on his words, Anakin paled at how threatening he sounded. He would have to work on that, and soon, but at least it made him more believable as Vader.

Rather unable to evict his foot from its present residence in his mouth, Anakin stumbled ahead, saying, “Your father has taught you well.”

That only got Leia’s back up further as she bristled and denied her father’s involvement. “My father knows nothing of what I do.”

Anakin mentally flailed for a response to that, one that didn’t involve breaking down and crying at least. He wasn’t very good at talking; he rather left that to Padmé and Obi-Wan. But he liked Leia Organa. She was good company, and she reminded him so strongly of Padmé in her words and actions (and appearance), and also a little bit of himself with her fiery defiance. He didn’t want to scare her or hurt her anymore than Vader already had.

“Of course,” Anakin agreed. The way the princess’ eyes narrowed told him it wasn’t helping. _Mission_ _abort_. “This way, Your Highness.” He stepped back with a sweep of his hand to allow the princess to exit the cell.

She looked between Anakin, the exit and her own unbound wrists, and said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” She jangled her wrists pointedly.

Anakin scowled, letting the helmet tilt down, giving it a menacingly angle. “Move or you will be moved, Your Highness,” he threatened.

Leia swallowed her fear and strode confidently past Anakin. Anakin nodded to the attending Stormtroopers. They hesitated, uncertain. “The binders,” he instructed coolly. The pair of ‘troopers nearly fell over themselves and each other in their haste to get the binders and put them on Leia. Anakin stood there with his great mechanical arms crossed, directing the death stare of his mask at them in turn. After a full minute of fumbling, Leia was cuffed. Anakin instructed the ‘troopers to stay where they were, despite their prior orders to accompany him. By the time he was leading Leia from the brig with one dark glove gripped firmly around her slim upper arm, she was giving him curious looks.

As they walked as a pair towards the bridge, Anakin silent as he tried to think of some way to communicate to Leia that he was on her side (and have her believe him; Force, _he_ wouldn’t believe himself either), Leia continued to periodically glanced up at him. They were just little looks, something other beings may have overlooked, but Anakin noticed. Eventually, he threw caution to the wind, because what the kriff else had changed with him, and rumbled down at the little princess, “Is something troubling you, Your Highness?”

Leia stiffened, obviously feeling caught out. But she was nothing if not swift to recover. “Only the injustice of the Empire, Lord Vader,” she returned, her words simple but her tone cutting. Anakin reflected that if she had spoken such words to the real Vader, it might have crossed the last line of his tolerance for their friendship. Or Vader may have just been amused. It was hard to tell with that monster.

“The Emperor is hardly likely to listen to the concerns of a traitor,” Anakin advised softly, the vocoder turning the words harsh. Once upon a time, Anakin would have felt similarly strongly about traitors as Vader still did. But Anakin had witnessed Vader betray everything and everyone Anakin had loved, so he was inclined to sympathise with those still loyal to the Republic Padmé had loved so dearly.

“Hardly,” Leia agreed sourly.

The silence resumed and, after a time, so did Leia’s curious looks. But they were fewer now, more subtle, and Anakin respected both her stubbornness and her adaptability. He was actively looking at her out of the sides of his eyes and using his Force sense to avoid walking into walls (although how Vader would ever live down that embarrassment might make the whole thing worth it), so he noticed every time she stole a look. He doubted even Vader would have noticed. He rarely paid much attention to anything that wasn’t actively irritating him.

They reached the bridge, where Admiral Motti was bowing to Governor Tarkin and informing him they had entered the Alderaan system. They noticed Anakin leading Leia towards them sans Stormtroopers, and Anakin watched one of Tarkin’s grey eyebrows snake its way up to his hairline. Leia saved Anakin the trouble of coming up with something witty to say to Tarkin as she said, “Governor Tarkin, I should have expected to find you holding Vader’s leash. I recognised your foul stench when I was brought on board.”

Anakin was suddenly too busy trying not to laugh to add anything himself.

“Charming to the last,” Tarken offered the rejoinder confidently. “You don’t know how hard I found it signing the order to terminate your life.”

Anakin’s laughter died in his parched throat. This was the first he was hearing of that! Tarkin really was going behind Vader’s back. Anakin made a note to watch for any impending assassination attempts.

“I’m surprised you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself!” Leia shot back.

Tarkin wasn’t phased in the slightest. Anakin felt his heart sink to his metal feet. He hoped Bail had had enough time to evacuate the planet. He hadn’t been able to buy him much time at all in the end.

“Princess Leia.” Tarkin oozed evil. Anakin could feel the Dark Side feeding off the man and was silently thankful the power-mad governor was as Force-null as they come. “Before your execution, I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now.”

It was a twisted echo of all the invitations Governor Tarkin had extended to Senator Organa during their time together of Coruscant. Anakin had witnessed enough of Tarkin’s creepy, sadistic interest in Leia to have to repress an involuntary shudder at the pleasure he could feel Tarkin taking from this scene. Anakin regretted he wasn’t strong enough to kill everyone aboard the Death Star, which is what he’d have to do if he killed Tarkin now. So, as much as he would enjoy it, he couldn’t. (He also thought quietly that he shouldn’t, it was very much _of the Dark Side_ to go around Force choking everyone you disagreed with, but Anakin had been in the habit of resorting to extreme measures before Vader had possessed his mind. It was hard to break out of that mindset even now, when he knew all too painfully just how dangerous it could be.)

Leia gave Tarkin a look that would have quelled even the Emperor. “The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers.”

Tarkin, however, was not quelled. If anything, his smirk deepened. “Not after we demonstrate the power of this station. In a way, you have determined the choice of the planet that'll be destroyed first. Since you are reluctant to provide us with the location of the Rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power… on your home planet of Alderaan.”

Leia, of course, already knew this, thanks to the mysterious voice in her head earlier, but being the talented actor that she is, she cried out, “No! Alderaan is peaceful. We have no weapons. You can't possibly…”

Tarkin dove in for the kill. “You would prefer another target? A military target? Then name the system!” Tarkin waved menacingly at Leia. “I grow tired of asking this. So it'll be the last time. Where is the Rebel base?”

The brave little princess barely flinched, the stubborn set of her mouth showing her unwillingness to answer. Then, over the intercom, they hear an officer announcing their approach to Alderaan. Leia frowned, face twisted in anguish. Then she said softly, “Dantooine.” She lowered her head as if in defeat. “They're on Dantooine.”

Anakin frowned behind the safety of Vader’s mask. He certainly hoped there was nothing important on Dantooine anymore. Last he’d heard there was a rather important old Jedi temple there, one he’d really rather not be turned into space dust. More than that, he hoped there were no Rebels on Dantooine. Tarkin would certainly destroy Alderaan regardless of anything Leia told him, but then he would go to the planet she’d told him and destroy that too… For all that Anakin wasn’t fond of traitors, or terrorists or insurgents, he couldn’t argue that the Alliance to Restore the Republic was one of the best chances the galaxy had of ousting Emperor Palpatine. (And it had, kind of, been partially his idea, after all.) Anakin wanted the war to be over. He’d wanted it over the day it had begun. But he had seen for a long time that the Republic had been a corrupt and ineffective entity. The Empire was no less corrupt but it was at least effective. The New Republic Leia and Mothma and Bail and the others wanted to create would hopefully succeed where those before it had failed. But only if it had the chance to try.

His whole plan had been two simple steps: 1. Save Alderaan. 2. Save Leia. There was no step 3.

Anakin was starting to think he should have thought of a step three. Maybe it could be ‘destroy the Sith and restore the Republic’. Perhaps that was an ambitious step 3 but Anakin liked a challenge.

Tarkin turned his smug, self-satisfied grin on Anakin. “There. You see, Lord Vader, she can be reasonable.” Anakin had to settle for just imagining ripping that smile off Tarkin’s face with the Force.

Then, as expected, because the Grand Moffs were more predictable than clockwork, Tarkin addressed Motti, “Continue with the operation. You may fire when ready.”

Leia startled, shooting Tarkin a desperate look. “What?”

Tarkin looked like he would be laughing in delight if it were dignified to do so. “You're far too trusting. Dantooine is too remote to make an effective demonstration. But don't worry. We will deal with your Rebel friends soon enough.”

“No!” Leia would have punched that smirk off Tarkin’s face were her hands free, Anakin realised proudly. But as it was, she had no choice but to watch the beautiful green planet through the viewport and pray that her people had made it away safely.

Anakin was waiting for the rest of the Imperials to get on with committing a galactic sin, when he realised that _they_ were waiting for _him_. “…Commence primary ignition,” Anakin ordered the Imperial soldier in charge of the laser array.

A button was pressed which switched on a panel of lights. The hooded Imperial soldier reached overhead and pulled a lever. Another lever was pulled. Anakin’s brow was furrowed in concentration as he reached for still another lever. He was out of practice using the Force, especially over great distances, but he could sense the planet of Alderaan felt emptier than any inhabited planet had the right to feel. Immensely relieved that he wasn’t about to be personally responsible for millions more deaths than he already was, Anakin pulled the lever and a bank of lights on the panel and wall lit up. A huge beam of light emanated from within a cone-shaped array atop the Death Star which converged into a single laser beam out toward Alderaan.

The small green planet of Alderaan was blown into space dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. May the Force be with you.

**Author's Note:**

> As I'm good at languages but awful at creating them, any and all Star Wars languages are taken from Star Wars and Legends, with the exception of the secret language of the slaves of Tatooine. Called 'Amatakka', it was invented by Fialleril. If you like plotty, thoughtful Star Wars fics, you should check out their Double Agent Vader series.


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